Time After Time
by RoonilFreakin'Wazlib
Summary: COMPLETE! One-shot: Hermione reminisces her time at Hogwarts, but most importantly, the moments including a particular redhead. Fluffy with a dash of humour! Sorry, I suck at summaries, but give it a chance? .


Haven't posted anything in _forever_! So, here you go. Fluffy oneshot with a dash of humour, enjoy!

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People always compared Harry Potter and Ron Weasley. If anything, they'd forget how much of a positive factor Ron was on the wizarding world. Until after the War, he was considered a pawn; a sidekick; often a liability. Everyone underestimated him for who he truly was. Always living in the shadow of his elder brothers, he felt inferior. Bill worked for Gringott's wizarding bank as a Curse Breaker in Egypt for a while before returning to England to get more involved with the Order. Charlie, who Ron rarely saw, worked in Romania taming dragons and monitoring the spectacular creatures and even, along with Bill, a member of the Order during the second War. Percy - thought Ron wouldn't exactly look up to him, of course - worked within the Ministry, even to the point where he was working within the main figures in the wizarding world. He personally took pride in all of this, but his younger brothers, especially, often taunted him behind his back. Fred and George were looked up to in Hogwarts as renowned pranksters, being compared to the likes of the marauders and managed to successfully uphold a thriving business together - until after the War when George had to continue the business, for the most part, on his own. Even though Ron didn't consider any of these things to be his ambition in life, he felt he could never live up to any of the standards his brothers had set. And when _the _Harry Potter came along, although his influence on Ron was positive, it was only someone else to live in the shadow of. That was how it appeared in Ron's eyes.

Oh, how naïve he was to think so.

Over the years, Hermione noticed all these things. How he'd always put himself down. How, whenever anyone questioned Harry about being the Chosen One or asked about all his adventures, a crestfallen expression would appear on Ron's face. It was common knowledge Ron was, and would always be, Harry Potter's best friend. No-one realised, through the majority of the hardships in Harry's life, Ron was there, too. He was the one who sacrificed himself on the chessboard in first year during the wizard's chess. Without that sacrifice, it would have been impossible for Harry to face Voldemort for the first time and, in doing so, protect the wizarding world from his premature rise from defeat. He was the one who helped Harry enter the Chamber of Secrets. He was the one who did so many admirable things that were unfairly overlooked. Hermione had always realised how courageous he was, even when he was oblivious to the fact. In her eyes, he was the most admirable of them all. Daresay, even more admirable than Harry Potter himself. He was the one who, despite being constantly overlooked, never gave up. Sure, Harry might have actually faced Voldemort himself and ultimately defeated him, but Ron always stuck by his side. The simple fact was she loved her boys. Harry and Ron were her world.

Before Hogwarts, she was the bookworm, the geek, the loner. Taunted and teased mercilessly for her bushy hair and oversized teeth and her excessive strive for perfection. She always knew she was different. Every day she begged for something to happen - anything. For someone or something to take her away from it all, to a place where she would be welcomed - a place where she truly belonged. It was only when a knock came at the door on her eleventh year in late July that she could justify her feelings as to why she didn't feel like she belonged. When McGonagall first announced she was a witch and that she had been accepted to attend Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Hermione really thought it was someone's idea of a sick joke. Even as an eleven-year-old, whose mind should be running wild at the news, she scoffed at the idea, insisting her parents and the aging woman in the emerald robes give up the joke and tell her it wasn't true. Thinking rationally, a place such as Hogwarts could never exist. But as the elderly witch told her about their world, something fell into place. For whatever reason, something in her mind told her that this was it. This was the distraction from reality she'd been hoping and praying for. Sure enough, over a month later, she was crossing the threshold to platform nine-and-three-quarters with her head held high. Now, fifteen years later, Hermione had the chance to look back on her years. But one thing was set in stone in her mind above all the rest. Something that remained time after time. Something that had been her constant for the best part of fifteen years. _Ron Weasley._

When she was in her third year, she never felt like she'd come to terms with the fact of how she felt for her best friend - especially since the majority of the year saw them at eachother's throats. Regardless, a little under a year later, at the Yule Ball, her feelings were confirmed. Not only did she come to the realisation there was a definite difference between how she felt for Harry and how she felt towards Ron. But, she also came to the realisation of how deep that difference ran. Her feelings towards the tall redhead ran deeper than any school girl crush; deeper than a mild infatuation. It was full blown love. Excruciatingly painful as it was, it was the time she felt best. Every day of her life, right up until the kiss at the battle, she'd been fighting a battle of her own. A fierce battle between her deepest desires and herself. The most confusing part of all that was the fact that, somehow, at some moment in time, the two merged into one. At some point, she couldn't decipher between the two. When this happened, she knew there was no going back. She knew that she would undoubtedly spend the rest of her life loving Ron Weasley and it was more than likely that the feelings wouldn't be reciprocated. From watching countless muggle romance movies with her mother, she labelled this as unrequited love. The most painful kind.

As moments from the realisation turned into days which turned into months which turned into years, she felt as if a burden rested upon her. However much she tried to rid herself of it, her efforts were fruitless. She'd find herself frenzied at the slightest things. A dopey grin from him, just for her, that made her go weak at the knees. A minute brush of elbows when studying or eating causing her stomach to clench and twist uncomfortably. Even one of his sleepy greetings in the mornings caused her heart to flutter mercilessly inside her chest. Everything she felt for him was confusing. He was the rudest most infuriating person she'd ever met and she couldn't fathom why she'd ever love someone as much as she did him. There was one thing she did know. One thing that remained ripe in her mind despite everything that seemed impossible. It was the fact that they'd never given up on eachother. The fact that, enough though they argued more than anyone she'd ever known, they were always there for eachother in the end. Whether it ranged from a grand gesture such as self-sacrifice on his part or extreme patience on hers, it was always there.

When they kissed during the heat of the final battle, everything seemed to fall into place. The possibility of death and destruction overcame both of their worries about misread signals and the fear of looking ridiculous. All Hermione felt in those brief few moments where she abandoned all traces of such thoughts was pure and limitless love. It was the kiss of a lifetime. One she knew she'd never forget. At the time, they relished in the moment, taking it all in for, as far as they knew, it could have been both their first and last kiss. Little did they know at the time, it would be the first of a lifetime of kisses.

Hermione lay on the sofa, a hand resting instinctively over her incredibly swollen stomach reminiscing her times with her boys. She knew from the beginning they'd always be in her life. She knew that whatever happened, if they needed eachother, they'd be there in a shot. And now, pregnant with hers and Ron's first child, she could look back on her life with no regrets. It was only when a click of a door handle rang through the air that she was forced back into reality, leaving all her thoughts lingering in the depths of her mind.

"What're you doing up so early?" Ron asked gruffly, rubbing his eyes as he came to a halt by Hermione's feet, shooting her his signature dopey grin. Hermione beamed up at him rather lovingly and lifted her feet so he could sit down. He never ceased to amaze her. Even after two years of marriage and approximately five years of dating beforehand, he made her heart flutter involuntarily without fail.

"Baby's restless," she breathed, "looks like baby _wants_ mummy to be tired for work." Even at a week away from her due date, Hermione refused to stop going in to work. She couldn't quite fathom whether it was her relentless hormones or sheer determination which drove her to carry on working, but it always resulted in protests from Ron.

He clicked his tongue at her. "Well, it's a good thing mummy _won't _be tired for work then, isn't it?" he smiled, settling down on the sofa and guiding her legs to rest atop his.

She eyed him questioningly. "What do you mean?"

"What I mean is, I've let your boss know there is no chance you're going in work from now on until your maternity leave finishes when the baby's born." He looked rather pleased with himself, only to find his smugness faltering after a death glare from Hermione.

"You can't be serious?" Her tone was harsh and almost venomous as she spat out her words. Trust Ron to try and act noble when it was the complete opposite she wanted.

"Completely serious," he nodded. "And you can't just go strolling into work, either, because they've promised me that if you do decide to try and go in, they'll owl me and I'll simply bring you back home again."

Hermione massaged her temples, shaking her head. "Fine," she sighed angrily. "But I'm not happy about it."

"I wouldn't expect anything less, sweetheart." Ron picked up her hand from her bump and placed a gentle kiss on it. She rolled her eyes at the gesture, but couldn't stop her mouth from twitching at the corners as she tried not to smile and her scowl faltered.

Hermione glanced at him and experienced the familiar sensation of her stomach performing somersaults. His hair was lying at odd angles, sticking up in the most awkward of places. His eyes were slightly bloodshot, but still her favourite piercing azure. His posture was lazy as he slumped against the back of the sofa. The freckles on his face made obscure patterns. Once, she'd counted every single one of them as he slept. There were exactly nine hundred and thirty-one of them on his face alone. Some of them hid in the creases of his mouth or just under his chin, but she was sure she'd found and counted every single one of them. Despite his protests about them and how much he loathed them, she'd always reply with a remark on how she found them to be his most interesting attribute. She knew he could sense her examining him, but she couldn't just couldn't take her eyes off him.

"What?" he asked her incredulously, his eyebrow raised.

She just bit her lip and smiled at him. "How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Everything."

He eyed her curiously for a few seconds before taking her hand in his and leaning back against the sofa. A sleepy grin crept across his face. "I'm Superman," he stated, a slight edge of humour in his voice.

This time it was Hermione's turn to raise her eyebrow at him. "You are, are you?" A smile crept across her face at how completely comfortable they could be with eachother as they humoured eachother with juvenile attempts at comedy.

He nodded. "Yup," he replied, popping the 'p'.

She shook her head at him, her mouth turned up at the corners before a hint of confusion hit her. "How do you know about Superman?"

His ears tinged red as a blush crept on his cheeks. "Er, dad used to keep some muggle comics in a box in the shed from a few raids he did. Had to un-jinx them, o' course. But, I was kind of obsessed with them."

A small laugh emanated from her lips. "You never cease to amaze me, Ron Weasley."

His overly large freckled hand slid from around hers and crept to her swollen stomach. "Always the tone of surprise," he said, a small rumble of laughter escaping his lips.

Hermione allowed her head to sink back into the sofa and placed both of her hands over his on her bump. Her mouth remained curled into a contented smile, before a small frown materialised on her face. A sharp, brief pain arose in her abdomen, causing her to flinch and let out a surprised gasp. Her head shot up to meet Ron's gaze, who seemed startled by her sudden outburst. His eyes were wide with concern.

"What's wrong?" He leaned over her a little, imploring her to confide in him.

She exhaled forcefully.

"Grab your cape, Superman. Baby's coming."

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Hope you enjoyed it! Don't forget to review and make my day, thanks.


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